


Strong arms.

by Kritty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 22:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kritty/pseuds/Kritty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some delicious hurt!dude with a side of caring!dude, served with salty water and evil kinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong arms.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thealpacalypse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealpacalypse/gifts).



> Set: Late season one  
> Spoilers: None.
> 
> Warnings: Not beta’ed, full of clichés and some bad words. Shitty title. Also: English is not my first language! Keep the typos you might find and please tell me if you notice any grammar mistakes...:)

**Strong arms.**

 

The first thing he noticed was the chilling cold, a second later the pain in his lungs made him groan, which turned into a hurtful fit of coughing and the pain almost made him pass out again.  
“I’ve got you, Dean. I’ve got you.” a well known voice whispered in his ear.  
“Dad?” Dean rasped, suddenly noticing the strong arms around his chest, the floating sensation and the legs kicking wildly behind his own ones.  
“Don’t talk, I think you hurt yourself earlier. That rope hit you pretty bad, dude.”  
Dean’s mind was cloudy and he shook his head and winked hastily, bringing up heavy iron arms to grab the biceps holding him up. Strong biceps saving is life, in more ways than one.  
“Wha’ happ’ned…?” he whispered, ignoring the pain in his throat and trying to kick his legs in order to help. Black dots danced in front of his eyes, streams of salty water flowing down his cheeks – water or tears, he didn’t care. There was only the ocean around them, seeming dark and dangerous under the grey sky that promised a coming storm.  
“’vengeful spirit on ship. Ship sank. Ganked the thing, though.”  
“The Crew?” Dean coughed, trying hard to help his father swim by kicking his legs even more.  
“Don’t Dean. Your left leg got a bit banged up. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”  
“I don’t feel anything, it doesn’t hurt” Dean stated, suddenly getting dizzy. He shut his eyes, licked his lips and tried to breathe calmly.  
But it felt like there was someone stabbing his chest with a butter knife, or like he got shot with a load of rock salt – why did he know what that felt like again? – and he opened his eyes instantly, suddenly gasping and clawing at the steady arms around his chest.  
“Can’t breathe!” he wheezed.  
“Dean! Stop panicking! I’ve got you! Bobby’s on his way, it’s gonna be okay! We were alone on that ship, nobody’s dead and Bobby’ll get us! You broke your leg and almost drowned and you really shouldn’t try to breathe in too fast and hard! Dean, goddamnit!” the voice was calm at first, rational and controlled, but it got rushed and scared in the span of two seconds.  
Dean felt a slight pain in his left shin when he violently kicked out, spluttering and heaving when water sloshed into his mouth, desperately panting for air.  
Suddenly one arm vanished from his chest, a hand grabbed his and put it on his own heart.  
“It’s beating too fast, and you know it! Make it slow down, Dean, make it slow down right now.”  
Dean tried to understand what his Dad was implying, saying, the words didn’t make any sense. The endless water around them, the lack of air, maybe even the tension of the oncoming storm, Dean wasn’t sure – it all turned the words into a chaos Dean’s sloppy mind couldn’t understand. He wanted to tell Dad something important, something about Sam – he didn’t even know what it was, when his father’s angry voice resounded in his left ear, making him wince and grabbing the single arm around his front even harder, icy fingers turning white.  
“MAKE YOUR HEART SLOW DOWN RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, DEAN.”  
Dean closed his eyes and stopped breathing altogether. In the foggy midst of his mind he saw numbers and when he saw ‘10’, he let air escape through his teeth and cracked lips, and when he felt the chest behind him pull in some air, he did the same.  
“It’s okay now, Dean. See, I’ve got you.” The other man then added: “That was pretty shitty from you, dude. Don’t you ever do that to me again.” Dean wanted to smile, but couldn’t. His face felt like a Popsicle, he was tired and had to focus on getting air into his battered lungs.  
“I hate you for making me wearing this fucking lifejacket. Next time you wear it. I tried to put it on you and hour ago, but every fucking time you decided to slip under water. I hate you, man.”  
That made Dan smile, a shake one at least. The fog in his mind had cleared a bit, he blinked heavily and freed his hand.  
The hand that had been holding holding his own remained on his heart. Dean didn’t mind, he was hurting too much and was far too tired to even care.  
“You just drowned you asshole. That was dry drowning.”  
Dean blinked again, sluggishly, tentatively moving his right leg, then the left, making a face at the pain he now felt.  
“Also, it was the second time. We have to get you to a hospital, Dean. Bobby will come in around thirty minutes and then we’ll get you to a hospital. If you resist, I’ll knock you out. I swear to god, man.”  
“How do you keep track of time? You’re not wearing a watch.” Dean rasped.  
“I count in my head.” was the dead-panned answer. “Don’t do that again, Dean. Please.” There was worry and fear and a bit of sadness.  
Dean swallowed and hoped his now strong and steady beating heart was some kind of confirmation enough.  
“You did good, Sammy.” he said quietly, feeling incredibly sleepy suddenly.  
“Oh, now I’m Sammy again. Thank you, I guess. Thought I would be Dad forever. ‘ve been called ‘dad’ now for almost 2 hours.”  
Dean chuckled wearily and started to cough. He heard his brother pulling in a scared breath.  
“It’s okay” Dean panted and let his head fall back on Sam’s shoulder when the fit was over.  
“Jus’ gonna rest my eyes a bit, Sammy.”  
“Don’t die while you’re at it.”  
“I promise.”  
Dean slipped into unconsciousness, not fearing for a second that he would sag under water.  
Strong arms held him up and saved his life.  
In more ways than one.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written due to a prompt by Bibbsch: "hurt!dean in the ocean"


End file.
